I feel like this is the time when everyone around me questions whether they are in the right place. I mostly mean my medical friends (including me), but others too. Our naive bubble kinda popped, and all we have now is… is it worth it? I’ve already written about the conditions, now we realised that… we have to work really hard. Residents have to work 12 hours every day (80+ hours/week, a normal job is 40 hours/week).
I did that. For 5 days. Of course I survived it, but it was exhausting, I couldn’t maintain my relationships (10 minutes of Facebook/day is almost nothing), I couldn’t go to parties, I didn’t eat all day… When it was over, I was just lying in my bed for another 5 days enjoying the sweet nothingness. But doing that all my life? HOW? Even if I did have someone who’s waiting for me at home, how could this work? When will I have time to cook, exercise, live social life if sleeping is the only option after 12 hours of work?
Not mentioning that this type of work schedule will ruin our health. Even if I manage to avoid chain smoking and caffeine addiction, I will be so stressed that aging process will be considerably quicker than in a normal person. And ok, I could choose a specialty that is not so consuming (family doctor, dermatology), but these specialties interest me exactly as much as history or finance do…
So the question… Is it worth it? Right now, when I have to learn so much boring stuff, when people die, when I know I will die, when everything is so fucked up in this system, I seriously considered booking my knee prosthesis surgery (I still can’t believe if I heard that right, but an old woman said that when she needed this surgery in 2005, they could give her an appointment in 2019!!!), when 3 days of travelling made me feel so alive, that I have no idea how could I ever gain back my motivation (=that naive bubble, where I think it’s possible to have a life, a family, balanced with work… is it lazy and selfish that I don’t necessarily want to work more than 8 hours a day?).
Right now, there’s nothing I want more than to travel the world. Seriously, if someone would come to me tomorrow with 10,000 euros, I would instantly pack my things and leave for the world. I even know where to start my journey. The only possible factors that could hold me back are my pets (it hurts so much to think of leaving them). I could contact my people online, I would be fine with it. But not being able to touch, hug, kiss, play with my babies… Ok, I stop before I start crying. But even then, I would go.
You can read about my Georgian adventures here. When I write these posts, I want to stay with the facts, and avoid being too emotional. But really! I bet it’s not for everybody, but deciding to travel alone was the BEST decision of my life. I felt so me, so free, so light, I’ve seen so many beautiful things that instead of fulfilling my inner travel junkie, I just want more, more, more. I want to meet more people, I want to hear their stories, I want to compare Hungarian traditions to others’, I want to enjoy hours of uncomfortable bus rides, I want to sing in the mountains, get stuck in tunnels, randomly ski, be on national television, get lost in foreign cities, hike, taste exotic wines, laugh, dress in weird clothes to enter churches, sleep on park benches… I could go on.
Now, I have to sleep, if I want to go to microbiology tomorrow (I actually love this and mosts subjects… but I really cannot describe with words how much effort it is to study them all. Just tell me it’s worth it.).